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Hufford 
Death  Valley 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


A  typical  desert  is  an    area  of  waste  land 
whose  use  mankind  has  not  yet  discovered. 


^'oLlrs  lrul\', 

D.    A.     HUFFORD. 

(One  of  the  party  ) 


Death  Valley; 


Swamper   Ike's   Traditional 
Lore:  Why,  When,  How? 


-^♦• 


BY 

D.  A.  HUFFORD. 


D.  A.  liuSSord  &  Co.,  Publishers, 
Los  Angeles,  Cal. 
1902 


Copyrighted,    1902,    by    D.    A.    Hufford 


7)3  H8 

S  THOUGH  urged  to 
journey  unarmed  and 
alone  through  the  inte- 
rior of  Tiburon  Island, 
on  the  ^Mexican  coast, 
and  meet  the  savage 
Seris,  did  the  old  Her- 
mit of  [Mussel  Rock 
start  when  Swamper 
Ike  suggested  the  pil- 
grimage through  Death 
Valley.  The  name  re- 
echoed more  horri- 
bly than  the  dangers 
to  be  met  in  the  bar- 
ren   valley    w^hich    had 

gained   the   reputation   of  being  the  playa   of 

Father  Time. 

Swamper  Ike  laughed,  but  there  seemed  to  be 
a  hollow  mockery  in  the  hilarity  that  sent  a 
chill  through  me  and  for  a  moment  curbed 
even  my  youthful  craving  for  adventure. 

Ike  was  a  peculiar  character — one  such  as 

it   would  be  expected  would  revel  in  regions 

the  thought  of  which  would  repulse  most  men. 

Tall,  with   stooped   shoulders,   a  piercing  eye, 

5 


262721 


determined  cast  of  countenance,  a  sun-cracked 
face,  resembling  a  piece  of  leather  left  in  the 
sun  for  years,  his  wiry  body  encased  in  shab- 
by clothing,  the  old  desert  guide  was  happy 
when  his  recitation  of  adventure  thrilled  his 
listeners. 

That  hollow  laugh  that  day  seemed  to  allay 
all  the  fears  of  the  old  hermit  and  spur  him 
on  to  travel  to  the  end  of  the  earth  rather  than 
concede  to  the  credit  of  rough  though  honest 
Ike,  the  victory  of  having  frightened  him. 

It  was  on  the  morning  of  December  nth, 
1901,  that  our  caravan  passed  through  the 
streets  of  Los  Angeles,  and  a  number  of  street 
urchins,  attracted  by  a  placard  rudely  painted 
on  the  side  of  our  canvas-canopied  wagon, 
"Death  Valley  or  Bust,"  followed  us. 

Our  party  consisted  of  George  Spooner, 
Swamper  Ike  (the  desert  sailor),  the  hermit, 
whom  we  had  sobriqueted  "Ennui,"  and  my- 
self. The  wagon  was  of  stout  construction, 
somewhat  worn,  as  it  had  seen  previous  duty, 
but  still  serviceable,  and  the  horses  were  of  the 
Norman  breed,  especially  selected  for  their 
stoutness  and  endurance. 

It  was  dark  when  we  arrived  at  the  mouth 
of  the  San  Fernando  tunnel,  having  traveled 
6 


Ike   Salsuepedes. 

("  Swamper  Ike.") 


twenty-five  miles  since  morning.  For  years 
the  hollow  where  we  pitched  our  tent  had  been 
known  as  "Hobos'  Retreat,''  which  name  it 
gained  from  the  towering  live  oaks  and  the 
crystal  brook  which  furnished  a  temporary 
haven  for  the  knights  of  the  road  who  travel 
toward  the  sunny  southland. 

At  sunrise  we  entered  the  narrow  and  sand- 
stone-walled pass  into  Newhall,  and  from 
thence  to  Saugus.  At  nightfall,  under  spread- 
ing live  oak  trees  near  v.diere  a  stream  in  the 
San  Franciscito  canon  flowed,  we  pitched  our 
tent,  and  lounged  in  the  rays  of  the  silver 
moonlight  and  listened  in  the  silence  of  nature 
to  the  reminiscences  of  Swamper  Ike. 

The  trip  through  the  caiion  was  especially 
interesting,  inasmuch  as  the  country  traveled 
was  rough  and  in  the  garb  of  nature.  The 
narrow  road  a  hundred  times  crossed  the 
stream,  and  on  the  low  banks  at  the  fords  were 
still  to  be  seen  the  hoof-marks  of  horses  driven 
by  other  argonauts. 

After  a  twenty  mile  drive  through  the 
canon,  we  arrived  at  the  summit  at  night.  Be- 
fore us  lay  the  fertile  Antelope  Valley,  and  the 
view  was  telescopic  in  its  range.  The  road 
to  the  valley  was  mountainous  and  extremely 
7 


serpentine,  having  been  cut  out  of  the  mam- 
moth rocks  of  the  mountains.  From  the  crest 
of  the  highlands  Antelope  Valley  seemed  so 
tranquil  and  peaceful  that  the  title,  "home  of 
the  unchained  wind,"  by  which  all  travelers 
know  the  country,  seemed  a  mockery. 

Too  true  did  Shakespeare  say,  "All  is  not 
gold  that  glitters ;"  but  it  was  until  we  en- 
tered the  valley  and  experienced  the  fury  of 
the  gale  that  we  realized  that  the  peaceful 
appearing  ranches  were  not  located  in  Para- 
dise. In  the  distance  a  train  wound  its  way 
toward  Lancaster,  and  the  lowing  herds  of  cat- 
tle seemed  to  be  in  harmony  with  the  de- 
structive winds. 

A  hundred  miles  away,  in  majestic  splendor, 
rose  the  stately  peak  known  as  Pilot's  Nob. 
How  valuable  this  lofty  mountain  had  been 
to  travelers  through  the  Death  Valley  on  the 
way  to  the  Golden  State,  history  tells.  It  can 
be  seen  from  Death  Valley,  and  to  the  prairie 
schooner's  crew  it  is  what  the  lighthouse  is 
to  the  storm-tossed  mariner  who  has  lost  his 
bearings. 

Miles  of  yucca  fringe  the  Antelope  Valley, 
and  as  the  traveler  nears  Willows  Springs,  on 


the  northern  extremity,  the  ruins  of  adobe 
buildings  give  silent  evidence  of  the  Mexican 
hacienda  estabhshed  years  before,  when  the  Ht- 
tle  railroad  depot  erected  by  one  of  the  great 
transcontinental  companies  gave  promise  of 
making  the  settlement. 

.IV 

Like  the  Indians,  Mexicans  are  nomadic, 
and  all  that  now  remains  to  bespeak  the  pres- 
ence of  a  village  are  the  delapidated  buildings 
and  the  creek  which  wends  its  way  from  the 
mountains  and  channels  into  the  valley.  Cattle 
come  from  miles  around  to  drink  of  its  crystal 
waters,  and  here  too  the  desert  traveler  re- 
plenishes his  supply  of  aqua — for  water  is  life, 
in  the  heated  sands. 

A  little  further  on  clumps  of  greasewood 
and  sagebrush  mark  the  character  of  the  land, 
and  an  occasional  coyote  crosses  the  road, 
looks  about  shyly  and  then  hurries  off  to  the 
thick  underbrush. 

On  December  14th  the  water  at  Willows 
Springs  was  'very  shallow,  and,  as  Swamper 
Ike  put  it.  "was  wet  only  on  one  side." 

On  through  the  Mojave  desert,  the  blazing 
heat  pouring  down  upon  us,  we  wendea  our 
9 


way  to  Mojave,  where  we  arrived  in  the  even- 
ing. Lunch  that  day  consisted  of  desert  ter- 
rapin, Swamper  Ike  having  prepared  one  of 
the  large  turtles  which  he  captured  that  day. 

Sixteen  miles  out  from  ^^lojave  are 
a  row  of  low  wooden  buildings,  and  it 
was  evident  that  they  had  only  recently 
been  deserted.  On  the  roughly  hewn 
door  was  a  placard  upon  which  w'as  writ- 
ten, in  a  bold  but  unsteady  hand,  the  infor- 
mation that  travelers  could  use  all  the  w^ater 
they  needed  and  the  house  and  cooking  uten- 
sils, but  requesting  them  not  to  use  the  lum- 
ber. Lumber  in  that  country  is  worth  more 
than  wheat,  owing  to  the  expense  of  trans- 
portation from  the  railroad.  Teamsters  are 
paid  well  because  the  hauls  are  long,  the 
roads  rough  and  the  feed  expensive. 

Into  Randsburg  we  drove  about  noon  on  the 
following  day,  and  the  mining  town  was  as 
active  as  usual,  but  the  heat  was  almost  in- 
tolerable. Plenty  of  saloons  and  more  gam- 
bling houses  and  a  number  of  rough  looking 
men  on  the  sidewalks  compose  the  town,  but 
it  is  lively  despite  its  small  population. 

Beyond  the  narrow  gulch  lay  Johannesburg, 
another  mining  town,  where  most  of  the  Death 


Among  the  Giant  Suaharas. 


Valley  caravans  provision,  and  at  this  place  we 
arrived  in  the  evening.  Water  for  the  horses 
cost  ten  cents  a  bucket,  and  water  for  men — 
well,  men  don't  drink  v.  ater  in  that  town. 

"Wal,  thar,  she's  desert-trim,  and  you  fel- 
lers just  pile  in  and  we'll  be  vamoosing," 
shouted  Swamper  Ike.  as  he  concluded  his  in- 
spection of  the  wagon.  The  amount  of  food 
and  water — for  man  and  beast — to  be  carried 
on  a  trip  of  this  kind  is  almost  inconceivable  to 
persons  unacquainted  with  desert  travel. 

Our  first  stop  after  leaving  "Joburg"  was 
at  Blackwater  Wells,  dug  nearly  half  a  cen- 
tury ago  by  Gen.  Wingate  on  his  trip  through 
that  region.  The  water  here  is  jet  black,  and 
is  used  only  for  horses  or  cooking.  The  coun- 
try around  is  more  or  less  mountainous,  and 
covered  with  mesquite.  greasewood,  or  "creo- 
sote" bush,  as  it  is  commonly  called,  sage- 
brush, chaparrel,  twenty-six  varieties  of  cacti, 
and  yucca,  etc.  Ike  said  wherever  you  find 
mesquite  grove  or  thicket  on  the  desert  you 
will  find  water  by  digging. 

The  grease-bush  is  found  in  greater  abun- 
dance than  any  other,  and  is  a  bush  with  many 
slender  branches  shooting  out  in  all  directions. 


T  saw  one  load  of  it  on  a  wagon  further  on, 
and  it  is  known  as  a  "desert  load  of  hay." 
When  l)urned.  it  sputters  like  grease,  and  thus 
it  gets  its  name.  If  a  "Back  East"  man  were 
told  that  fuel  is  gathered  with  a  shovel  in  Death 
Valley  he  would  surely  think  you  were  deceiv- 
ing him.  The  reason  for  that  is  that  a  sand 
storm  will  cover  up  a  whole  forest  in  a  single 
week. 

A  day  further  on  is  a  pass  in  these  hills, 
called  Windy  Gap.  Its  name  does  not  belie  it- 
self. It  was  first  called  Wingate,  then  "Wind 
Gate,"  and  finally  it  was  evolutionized  into 
its  common  name,  "Windy  Gap." 

There  are  other  wells  in  this  sec*^ion  com- 
memorating this  passage  of  the  argonaut.  This 
old  warrior's  name  will  always  refresh  the 
thirsty  travelers  on  the  desert,  for  such  men 
as  he  helped  to  make  it  possible  to  cross  this 
stretch  of  sand  in  comparative  safety. 

A  few  miles  further  back  begins  the  "tin 
lining"  of  the  desert  travel,  for  from  there  on 
you  will  see  innumerable  empty  tin  cans 
(baked  beans,  tomatoes,  condensed  milk  and 
the  like)  at  the  wet  and  dry  camps,  left  by  pre- 
vious campers. 


The  topographical  features  of  the  desert  are 
interesting  to  the  tourist,  as  well  as  to  one  not 
versed  in  geological  lore.  There  is  no  dan- 
ger in  traveling  through  the  desert  ten  months 
in  the  year,  when  you  are  properly  guided,  but 
you  should  never  attempt  to  cross  it  in  July 
and  August. 

Swamper  Ike  suggested  that  we  make  camp 
here  and  get  an  early  start  in  the  morning. 
Nothing  of  importance  occurred  the  first  day 
cut,  and  the  afternoon  was  spent  in  telling 
yarns  and  listening  to  some  legends  about  the 
Lost  Lake. 

The  next  night  was  spent  at  Granite  Wells, 
tne  second  watering  place,  about  thirty  miles 
from  Joburg,  and  immediately  at  the  base  of 
Pilot  Nob.  a  mountain  several  hundred  feet 
high,  composed  largely  of  gold-bearing  quartz, 
intermixed  with  copper,  but  the  ore  is  of  so 
low  a  grade  as  to  be  practically  valueless  un- 
der present  conditions  of  transportation.  The 
future  of  all  the  mining  ventures  of  the  des- 
ert hangs  upon  the  building  of  railroads 
through  the  different  sections. 

Ike  showed  us  several  mining  claims  on  th!s 
peak,  some  of  which  had  shafts  of  some  depth. 
13 


while  others  had  tunnels  extending  some  hun- 
dred or  more  feet  into  the  mountain.  On  ac- 
count of  the  low  grade  of  ore,  only  assessment 
work  had  been  done.  With  cheaper  transpor- 
tation, they  no  doubt  could  be  made  to  pay 
handsomely — both  in  gold  and  copper. 

Here  were  some  outcroppings  of  sand  stone, 
marking  the  underlying  oil  beds.  This  was 
on  the  main  road,  about  two  miles  from  Black- 
water  Wells.  I  found  that  the  whole  south 
slope  of  a  small  mountain  was  composed  of 
this  sand,  but  with  a  very  little  shale.  The 
dip  seems  generally  to  the  north,  with  a  very 
much  broken  formation  and  by  no  means  well 
defined.  There  is  no  doubt,  with  proper  fa- 
cilities, energy  and  money,  that  here,  as  well 
as  elsewhere  on  the  desert,  can  be  found  vast 
store-houses  of  precious  gems. 

This  sandy  stretch  of  waste  land  is  im- 
mensely rich.  Besides  the  precious  gems  and 
Cjuartz,  there  is  soda,  iron,  potash,  nitrate  ma- 
terials and  many  articles  of  value  in  the  rocks 
and  hills  for  manufacturers  and  chemists. 

One   fact  emphasizes   itself — this  vast   area 
we  call  desert,  from  the  very  fact  that  it  is 
hot  and  dry,  has  preserved  there  for  this  coun- 
14 


'?^*lfftH 


.^Kiif 


,1 


try  the  very  thing  it  needs  most.  It  is  the 
store-house  of  riches,  of  which  mankind  has 
only  to  ttir)i  the  key. 

In  the  immediate  neighborhood  of  Granite 
Wells  are  a  number  of  turquoise  mines,  which 
yield  about  lo  per  cent  of  good  gems,  the  re- 
mainder being  worthless.  Only  assessment 
work  has  been  done  on  these.  This  is  the  most 
common  precious  stone  of  this  valley,  though 
a  few  aeates  and  other  minor  stones  are  found. 

The  next  night  found  us  at  Leach's  Springs, 
after  having  made  two  dry  camps  on  the  way. 
From  a  guide-board  at  this  place  we  learned 
that  we  had  attained  an  elevation  of  3084  feet, 
and  had  traveled  forty  miles  from  our  last 
camp,  making  a  total  of  sixty-seven  miles  from 
joburg. 

Leach's  Springs,  so  Swamper  Ike  said,  had 
been  famous  as  a  stronghold  for  horse-thieves 
and  criminals  when  the  first  wagon  trains  came 
through  from  Salt  Lake  and  other  Eastern 
points  in  the  early  days.  In  the  eighties  he 
drove  one  of  the  big  borax  w^agons  running 
out  of  Death  A'alley.  and  it  was  no  uncommon 
thing  in  those  days  to  kill  a  teamster  after 
pay-day,  while  the  looting  of  the  pay-wagon 
15 


was  accomplished,  despite  its  guards.  On  his 
neck  was  a  prominent  scar  caused  by  a  rob- 
ber's bullet.  A  saloon  located  there  years  ag-o 
did  a  thriving  business,  but  now  all  that  re- 
mains of  it  is  a  rectangular  row  of  huge  stones 
marking  its  walls. 

An  old  Indian  camping  ground  is  to  be  found 
on  a  sloping  bit  ot  mesa  near  the  spring,  while 
thousands  of  agate,  jasper  and  obsidian  chip- 
pings  mark  the  spot  and  tell  of  its  long  occu- 
pation. Here  we  engaged  in  a  hunt  for  cu- 
rios, but  only  one  or  two  good  arrow  heads 
rewarded   our   search. 

Just  back  of  the  spring  can  be  seen  a  per- 
fect elephant's  head  frowning  down  upon  the 
canon  below,  carved  by  nature  from  the  rock. 
I  found  four  varieties  of  cacti  growing  within 
a  circle  sixty  feet  in  diameter,  just  below  this 
niammoth  head,  while  regular  swamp  weed 
grew  in  profusion  close  to  the  spring. 

Here  we  made  the  acquaintance  of  three 
pair  of  ravens,  which  followed  us  all  the  way, 
a  distance  of  nearly  seventy  miles,  and  show- 
ing no  signs  of  abandoning  their  mission  for 
food.  The  ravens  here  are  particularly  fear- 
less, coming  about  camp  as  familiar  as  jays  in 
the  lower  hills. 

i6 


We  noted  up  to  this  point  about  thirty  birds, 
two  rattlers,  four  coyotes,  a  lone  red  fox,  a 
chahualla  (about  the  size  of  a  Gila  monster 
and  good  to  eat),  four  jackrabbits  (Ike  got 
one),  and  some  cottontails,  horned  toads  and 
lizards  of  different  colors. 

There  are  very  few  points  of  interest  outside 
the  caiion  in  which  these  springs  are  situated. 
Stopping  over  night  and  in  the  morning,  see- 
ing that  our  water  barrels  were  well  filled,  we 
pulled  over  twenty  miles  of  typical  desert  road 
to  Owl  Holes,  or  Owl  Springs. 

Here  are  deposits  of  borax,  sodium  carbon- 
ate ("baking  powder,"  as  Swamper  Ike  called 
it)  and  nitrate.  One  or  two  small  pieces  of 
asbestos  were  also  found,  indicating  larger  de- 
posits larther  up. 

Remaining  at  Owl  Holes  over  one  day,  we 
descended  through  a  rocky  water-course  more 
than  three  thousand  feet  into  Death  Valley 
proper,  making  camp  at  Saratoga  Springs,  at 
the  end  of  the  valley.  Here  the  bed  of  the 
Amargosa  river  is  literally  covered  with  a 
heavy  deposit  of  borax.  Salt  hills  are  abun- 
dant just  across  this  dry  river  bed.  \\'e  made 
these  springs  our  headquarters. 
17 


A  good  map  of  California  will  show  that 
Death  Valey  lies  in  the  southeast  corner  of 
Inyo  county.  The  distance  to  the  following 
points  from  these  springs  are:  io6  miles  to 
Randsburg,  80  miles  to  Daggett.  22  miles  to 
Evans's  ranch,  32  miles  to  Resting  Springs, 
10  miles  to  Owl  Springs,  12  miles  to  Salt 
Springs,  30  miles  to  Coyote  Springs. 

.'vt  Saratoga  Springs  are  the  remains  of  two 
old  store  houses,  recalling  a  decade  ago,  when 
the  heavy  borax  wagons,  each  drawn  by 
twenty  mules  or  more,  pulled  by  on  their  weary 
trips  to  the  railroad  station.  These  houses 
were  then  occupied  as  a  saloon  and  store,  re- 
spectively. The  old  miners,  "desert  Arabs  of 
many  years,  sigh  for  those  good  old  days,  when 
the  roads  were  spotted  with  teams  and  the  bas- 
tioned  hills  gave  back  the  songs  of  the  team- 
sters, allaying  that  "oppressive  silence"  that 
is  everywhere  experienced  on  the  desert. 

Several  graves  are  found  at  these  wells,  one 
•of  which  is  a  teamster  killed  by  his  swamper 
(helper)  on  the  borax  wagon  in  a  moment  of 
anger.  The  monotony  of  desert  travel  tries 
one's  nerves,  and  is  no  place  for  heated  argu- 
ments ;  that  "dead  silence"  preying  on  the  mind 
is  why  the  human  being  cannot  tolerate  censur- 
18 


Rattlesnake.     Native  of  the  Desert. 


ing-.  The  others  are  desert  prospectors,  who 
succumbed  to  the  intense  heat  of  the  desert, 
the  extreme  heat  of  July  having  laid  open  the 
head  of  one  of  them. 

Swamper  Ike  was  once  a  swamper,  and  af- 
terwards a  teamster.  The  wages  paid  to  the 
former  were  $75.00,  and  the  latter  $120.00 
per  month,  and  they  boarded  themselves.  Each 
teamster  drove  twenty  mules  with  a  "jerk  line," 
being  assisted  at  the  brake  and  in  other  ways 
by  a  swamper. 

We  are  now  at  a  point  where  that  "oppres- 
sive silence" — the  quietness  of  death — the 
passing  of  the  death  angel — seizes  your  nerves. 
The  feeling  is  indescribable.  For  where  there 
are  no  chirping,  no  fluttering  of  wings,  no 
wind  playing  on  the  leaves  of  the  trees,  noth- 
ing but  that  eternal  silence. 

I  can  hardly  realize  that  a  few  miles  from 
Saratoga  Spring's  (250  feet  above  sea  level,  in 
the  Armagosa  valley  (an  extension  of  Death 
A'alley  proper,  and  as  the  altitude  is  much 
higher  here  than  the  sink  or  fathomless  bowl, 
is  why  Armagosa  river,  when  it  had  any  water, 
ran  north  and  emptied  into  the  sink),  we  were 
200  feet  below  the  breakers  at  Santa  Monica 
and  400  below  the  city  hall  in  Los  Angeles. 
19 


Everything  seemed  the  same  as  it  has  been 
throughout  the  trip,  save  that  the  atmosphere 
was  not  so  pure  as  it  was  a  few  miles  back  on 
the  border  of  Death  Valley.  Distances  are  just 
as  deceiving,  and  a  morning  walk  to  yonder 
knoll  in  search  of  Indian  relics  lengthens  out 
to  a  half-day  tramp.  Throughout  the  day  the 
sunbeams  reflect  a  vast  variety  of  rainbow  col- 
ors along  the  sand,  and  on  each  side  of  the 
caiions.  The  sands  in  the  distance  form  vast 
fields  of  the  same  color,  and  sometimes  when 
there  is  a  strong  wind  the  brighter  the  color 
appears.  There  is  no  twilight  in  Death  Val- 
ley ;  a  brief  afterglow,  then  darkness  and  si- 
lence. 

The  clouds  of  the  desert  have  no  great 
change  during  the  day,  but  at  early  dawn  they 
are  pink,  gold,  saffron  and  all  the  grays ;  then 
again  they  are  yellow,  green,  red  and  rich  gol- 
den in  color.  The  dawns  of  the  desert  have 
no  equal.  The  clear  air  on  the  desert  is  very 
deceiving  as  to  distance,  and  especially  is  that 
true  of  the  "mirage  lakes."  You  see  them  in 
the  distance,  and  you  could  imagine  that  they 
were  real  lakes,  villages,  steamboats  plying  to 
and  fro.  The  water-mirage  does  not  show 
well  over  brushy  ground,  but  on  the  flat  lake 


beds  of  the  desert  they  appear  distinctly.  The 
disappearances  and  appearances  of  the  objects 
and  colors  in  the  mirage  lakes  are  often  quite 
wonderful. 

The  most  common  illusion  of  the  desert  is 
the  water  mirage,  which  is  picturesque  in  the 
extreme,  and  as  a  rule  you  will  see  no  horizon 
line.  One  day  a  man  belonging  to  another 
party  came  over  to  our  camp  perfectly  nude, 
holding  his  cloths  high  over  his  head,  thinking 
he  was  in  water.  The  real  beauty  of  the  mirage 
illusion  lies  in  the  formless  masses  of  color 
and  light.  Beautiful  dreams  are  always  wel- 
come, and  the  mirage  is  only  a  dream. 

The  desert  sand  is  finer  than  snow,  and 
rythmically  blends  the  sand  dunes  into  the  most 
grotesque  shape  and  forms. 

The  sand  hills  are  very  unreliable,  today 
they  are  at  one  place,  and  if  the  wind  blows  on 
the  morrow  they  will  be  20  to  50  feet  away. 
Neither  the  sand  dunes  nor  flats  nourish  veg- 
etation, and  down  into  the  sink  for  miles  not 
a  weed  or  blade  of  grass  is  seen.  t.ven  vege- 
tation cannot  live  by  sunlight  alone. 

The  thermometer  registers  132°  in  the  shade 
in  July  and  August,  and  on  those  days  of  high 
registration  it   is   not   in  the  power  of  a  hu- 


man  being  to  drink  water  fast  enough  to  sat- 
isfy his  thirst,  even  if  he  had  plenty  of  it. 

In  1 89 1  the  weather  bureau  sent  an  observer 
to  remain  there  and  take  observations  during 
the  summer  months.  When  he  returned  be- 
fore the  expiration  of  his  time,  he  said  he 
would  take  "hell  straight''  next  time.  He  re- 
mained there  153  days.  His  report  was  that 
the  valley  was  75  miles  long  by  six  to  ten  miles 
wide,  and  that  some  streams  flow  into  the  sink, 
but  the  burning  sand  and  alkali  lick  them  up ; 
several  days  the  thermometer  was  122°,  the 
minimum  being  90^,  making  an  average  for  the 
day  about  109°.  His  version  was  that  Death 
Valley  was  once  a  great  salt  lake.  In  those 
hot  days  a  person  cannot  hold  anything,  just 
like  an  extreme  cold  country  you  cannot  hold 
iron.  Eggs  can  be  fried  on  rocks,  and  fresh 
meat  the  night  before  would  be  spoiled  in  the 
morning.  The  wind  from  the  south  through 
Furnace  Creek,  in  those  months,  is  simply  a 
fier\-  furnace.  It  shrivels  everything  it  touches. 
An  iron  founder's  sand  blast  about  equals 
it.  The  "dead  silence'^  and  the  fiery  heat  fre- 
quently drive  men  mad.  There  is  no  danger 
when  a  party  is  properly  conducted,  and  the 
trip  is  taken  under  the  right  condition. 


tteaaamk''. 


.-»T;.-^v>ir-| 


"*^^Pi^ 


-■■/■■':■ 


Wk 


Death  Valley  proper  is  remarkably  free  from 
tarantulas,  snakes,  spiders,  scorpions  and  in- 
sects, notwithstanding  the  exaggerated  stories 
to  the  contrary.  We  did  not  see  or  find  any  in 
the  sink  of  the  valley. 

Any  place  away  from  the  main  road  is  dan- 
gerous, especially  after  a  rainstorm — for  it 
does  rain  on  the  desert,  but  the  rain  is  uncer- 
tain. Sometimes  it  does  not  rain  for  six  or 
seven  years,  but  when  it  does,  there  is  a  cloud- 
burst, and  then  there  is  danger. 

Swamper  Ike  said  that  at  one  time  near  Salt 
Springs  he  drove  his  wagon  a  little  off  the 
road,  the  horses  sank  nearly  out  of  sight,  and 
he  went  in  to  his  waist.  There  were  two  In- 
dians with  him,  and  only  with  the  timely  use 
of  ropes  saved  himself  and  the  animals. 

Many  wild  and  weird  tales  are  told  about 
this  valley,  but  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
traveler  comes  across  some  gruesome  finds  in 
the  way  of  skeletons.  We  came  across  the  bones 
of  some  unfortunate  who  perished  on  the  des- 
ert, and  as  there  were  no  clothes  or  anyt.img 
to  identify  him  by,  we  just  gave  them  a  decent 
burial  near  the  spring.  One  peculiarity  of  this 
region  is  the  fact  that  the  drifting  sand  will 
23 


uncover  what  was  turned  tlie  day  before.  The 
fiiidijig  of  these  bones  suggested  the  corner 
pieces  for  tJiis  rolnnie. 

In  this  valley  there  is  a  circular  hole,  be- 
tween the  sink  and  the  Funeral  mountains, 
some  four  feet  in  depth  and  thirty  feet  across, 
which  is  filled  with  tepid  sulphur  water  by  a 
number  of  springs,  which  bubble  through  the 
white  sand  of  the  bottom.  This  overflows  its 
basin  on  the  north  side,  spreading  out  over  a 
natural  depression  formed  between  the  sand 
hills  of  an  ancient  sea  and  the  mountain,  near 
Furnace  Creek,  forming  a  lake  of  several  hun- 
dred acres  in  extent,  where  coots,  ducks  and 
geese  gather  a  few  weeks  at  a  time  in  their 
migratory  flight. 

At  these  moimtains,  at  whose  southern  end 
the  springs  are  situated,  present  one  of  those 
strange  anomalies  for  which  this  valley  is  fa- 
mous, and  called  by  a  most  solemn  name — 
Death  Valley. 

As  we  neared  Telescope  Peak,  Swamper  Ike 
suddenly  halted  and  tears  shone  upon  his 
bleached  and  weather-caloused  cheeks.  Here 
was  a  man  of  stone,  whose  heart  was  bleeding 
as  though  a  thousand  blades  of  steel  had  en- 
24 


tered  it  simultaneously.  I  stepped  quickly  to 
his  side,  and  my  arm  found  its  way  over  his 
shoulder.  We  were  both  kneeling,  and  when 
the  "desert  sailor"  recovered  from  his  emo- 
tion, he  related  with  the  sincereness  of  a  child 
a  story  remarkable  and  sympathetic- 

It  was  at  the  base  of  this  peak  in  the  fifties 
that  the  prairie  schooner  in  which  his  mother 
and  father  were  taking  him  westward  to  the 
cherished  land,  ended  its  journey.  Ike  was  a 
child  in  arms,  and  was  fretful  on  account  of 
the  almost  intolerable  heat. 

The  water  supply  was  nearly  exhausted,  and 
the  schooner  had  left  the  caravan  in  search  of 
a  spring  or  stream.  In  the  barrel  which  was 
swung  from  the  rear  of  the  heavy  wagon  was 
about  a  pint  of  water. 

Swamper  Ike's  father  kissed  his  wife  and 
baby  affectionately  before  he  started  on  his 
foraging  tour.  In  that  country  death  comes 
suddenly,  and  the  mirages  often  lead  a  trav- 
eler far  from  his  course  and  along  the  path 
to  the  goal  of  death. 

Under  the  wagon  sat  the  mother  with    her 
baby  in  her  arms,  when  the  husband  and  fa- 
25 


ther  disappeared  over  the  mountain.  She  hug-- 
ged  the  baby  more  closely  and  covered  its  little 
face  with  kisses. 

Two  hours  had  elapsed,  and  the  father  and 
husband  did  not  return. 

Anxiety  prompted  the  good  woman  to  search 
for  him.  Pouring  the  water  from  the  barrel 
into  the  infant's  milk  bottle  and  placing  the 
nipple  in  the  little  one's  mouth,  she  kissed  baby 
frantically,  then  laid  it  on  a  blanket  under  the 
wagon  and  started  on  the  search. 

Her  own  lips  were  parched  and  blistered, 
and  her  tongue  swollen  from  thirst,  but  the 
mother's  love  for  her  child  was  greater  than 
her  own  sufifering. 

She  never  came  back.  She  had  found  her 
husband  in  the  Valley  of  Death,  but  not  in 
Death  Valley. 

Under  the  wagon  Cocopah  Indians  found  the 
innocent  babe  that  afternoon.  It  had  thrown 
its  bottle,  still  half  full  of  water,  aside,  un- 
conscious that  the  draught  in  that  glass  recep- 
tacle had  been  purchased  at  the  cost  of  two 
lives. 

The  little  pale  face  took  kindly  to  its  new 
friends,  for  they  were  decked  with  all  the  col- 
26 


■  X 


ors  of  the  rainbow,  and  this  conspicuous  finery 
won  the  baby's  heart. 

On  to  the  great  Colorado  river  the  squaws 
carried  the  child,  taught  him  their  language 
and  that  of  the  Mexicans,  and  in  that  envi- 
ronment of  Indian  life  Swamper  Ike  grew  to 
manhood  to  learn  of  the  cruel  deeds  of  Fate 
and  the  sacrifice  of  his  parents. 

Ofttimes  had  he  visited  this  spot  and  ap- 
pealed to  the  Great  Jehovah  in  prayer,  for  it 
was  here  that  his  mother  pressed  her  tear- 
stained  face  against  that  of  her  baby  for  the 
last  time  and  resigned  herself  to  God  and  Death 
\'alley. 

Many  times  had  Ike  crossed  that  valley  with 
the  Indians,  who  had  named  him  Ike  Salsue- 
puedes,  the  Indian  for  "get  out  if  you  can." 
Years  afterward  the  borax  gang  named  him 
Swamper  Ike.  because  they  could  not  master 
the  pronunciation  of  the  Indian  name.  Often 
had  the  redskins  in  those  days,  with  their  white 
charge,  crossed  Death  Valley  without  provis- 
ions, gathering  nature's  products  to  supply  the 
demands  of  the  human  system. 

If  Death  \^alley  could  only  speak,  wliat  aw- 
ful   tales    it    could    unfold !      Iron    and    parts 


of  wagons  are  occasionally  found  on  the  old 
Santa  Fe  trail.  In  the  fifties,  at  the  base  of 
Telescope  Peak,  the  highest  mountain  in  the 
valley,  lying  sixty  odd  miles  northeast  from 
Saratoga  Springs,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the 
valley,  that  the  name  to  this  valley  was  made 
known  to  the  world,  through  an  vmfortunate 
ending  of  an  emigrant  party  traveling  from 
St.  Louis  to  Santa  i:'e,  and  bound  for  Southern 
California.  This  valley  would  have  been  for- 
gotten but  for  their  pitiful  fate.  Gen.  Fre- 
mont took  that  trail.  The  hardy  argonauts 
were  willing  to  undergo  the  hardships  to  reach 
the  land  of  gold. 

The  moon,  when  it  is  full,  at  this  point 
crowns  a  picture.  The  sand  dunes  lying  adja- 
cent to  the  mountains  are  magnified  like  snow- 
hills  in  the  East.  For  extreme  desolation  and 
wxirdness  of  the  phantom  phosphorescent  light, 
a  night  on  the  desert  surely  tries  one's  nerves, 
for  a  superstitious  person  can  see  all  varieties 
of  figures  in  the  distance.  Blue  is  the  pre- 
vailing color  of  the  sky,  and  sometimes  the 
deepest  kind  of  blue.  The  desolation  and  si- 
lence of  the  desert  will  never  be  forgotten  by 
men  who  have  crossed  it.  Its  grim  mountains 
of  rainbow  hues,  the  sublimity  of  its  myste- 
28 


rious  immensity  and  sandy  plains,  its  expand- 
ing and  contraction  of  the  horizon,  its  caiions 
and  arroyO'S,  with  their  rainbow  hues,  its  drift- 
ing- sand  dunes  and  mirage  lakes,  will  forever 
remain  a  mystery  to  mankind.  All  of  the 
scholared  scientific  men  may  say  this  and  that 
and  not  agree,  while  the  opinion  of  an  illiter- 
ate man,  but  a  child  of  Nature,  may  differ 
from  their  views,  he  is  just  as  correct  a  great 
many  times  as  they  are  in  the  mystery  of  Death 
\'alley. 

The  mountains  surrounding  this,  valley  are 
clothed  in  all  the  colors  of  the  rainbow.  Ar- 
senic Springs  are  found  in  this  arid  valley, 
as  well  as  poisonous  gases  at  Furnace  Creek. 
The  abutting  foothills  of  the  sink  are  rich  in 
minerals,  the  blues  and  the  greens  of  the  cop- 
per ore,  the  darker  iron,  the  multi-colored  gold- 
bearing  quartz,  and  the  sodas,  nitrate  and  pot- 
ash materials,  gypsum  and  asbestos,  all  of 
them  giving  it  a  kaleidoscopic  appearance  to 
a  range  of  mountains  in  which  more  men  nave 
lost  their  lives  from  hunger  and  thirst  than 
any  other  place  on  the  continent.  The  writer 
spent  one  year  on  the  "bad  lands"  in  Dakota 
and  INIontana,  which  are  a  Paradise  compared 
to  Death  Valley. 

29 


The  underflow  of  the  desert  rivers  have  re- 
cently been  investigated  by  government  en- 
gineers. It  is  claimed  that  the  subterranean 
velocity  of  the  Mojave  river  is  the  greatest  of 
them  all,  but  is  neutralized  to  a  great  extent  by 
the  cross-sections  of  the  underflow  at  the  nar- 
rows. There  is  no  doubt  that  some  of  the  des- 
ert rivers  are  fed  in  their  subterranean  beds 
from  springs  arising  from  a  deeper  flow  from 
the  Rocky  Mountains.  All  the  streams,  after 
leaving  the  canons,  sink  into  the  sand  and  wind 
their  way  to  the  ocean  in  their  subterranean 
channels. 

Death  Valley  proper  is  about  eighty  miles 
long,  running  from  south  to  north,  and  from 
five  to  twenty  miles  wide.  At  its  lowest  point, 
according  to  scientific  men,  it  is  417  feet  be- 
low sea  level,  where  its  "climate"  is  oppres- 
sive and  intolerably  hot,  where  all  poisonous 
reptiles  shun  it  as  they  would  a  sand-blast, 
where  the  coyotes,  wild-cats,  skunks  and  other 
quadrupeds  do  not  relish  this  fathomless  quag- 
mire, with  its  thin  crust,  composed  largely  of 
slimy  mud,  heavily  charged  with  borax,  ni- 
trates, copperas,  alkalis,  potash  and  other  crys- 
tallized materials,  is  about  ten  miles  from  foot- 
hills to  foothills.  About  200  miles  of  lofty 
30 


ii 


mountains,  running  north  and  south,  separate 
this  valley  from  the  sea. 

The  glare  of  this  immobile  sea  is  like  the 
sheen  of  an  Eastern  snow-field.  It  is  not  safe 
to  drive  across  it,  for  the  horses  sink  into  the 
mud,  and  there  is  no  telling  how  soon  the 
whole  party,  horses  and  all,  would  disappear. 
We  lowered  a  wire  with  a  lead  weight  eighty 
feet,  and  while  tieing  on  some  rope  on  the  end 
of  the  wire,  it  slipped  out  of  my  hand  and  dis- 
appeared. 

Two  rivers  flow  in  the  sink — Furnace  Creek 
from  the  northeast,  and  the  Armagosa  from 
the  east.  The  sink-hole  is  walled  in  on  all 
sides,  by  the  Panamints  on  the  w^est,  the  Fu- 
neral range  on  the  east,  and  a  mountain  range 
on  the  south,  so  that  properly  speaking  Death 
Valley  is  walled  m  on  all  sides  except  the 
north.  Telescope  Peak,  the  highest  point,  is 
about  9000  feet,  and  Funeral  Peak  7000  feet, 
above  sea  level. 

Just  note  the  altitude  of  these  mountains  and 
the  depression  in  the  sink !  Where  will  you  find 
a  rent  or  crevasse  in  the  earth  with  two  such 
mountain  peaks  on  either  side.  INIt.  Whitney 
is  something  like  70  miles  east  and  a  little 
routh,  and  towering  14,000  feet  above  sea  level. 
31 


The  eye  cannot  grasp  the  magnitude  of  the 
depth  and  height  of  these  surroundings. 

The  several  thousand  feet  of  bench-hne  on 
either  side  above  the  sink  can  be  seen  crop- 
pings  of  red,  blue,  green,  yellow — in  fact  all 
the  rainbow  colors — and  as  time  goes  on  the 
cloud-bursts  and  wind  erosions  wash  these  min- 
erals in  the  sink.  Along  this  bench-line  can  be 
found  sea  shells,  like  one  could  pick  up  on  any 
ocean  beach.  Now,  where  did  these  come 
from  ? 

In  general  appearance  the  valley  is  gray, 
sombre,  desolate  and  uninviting.  The  natural- 
ist must  indeed  be  in  his  sternest  mood  to  ad- 
mire it,  for  there  is  not  a  green  thing  that 
grows  there  naturally.  Southern  exposures  are 
found  most  prominent. 

Travelers  on  the  desert  running  short  of 
water  will  sometimes  find  it  on  the  southeast 
sides  of  the  mountains,  but  as  a  rule  it  is  deep- 
seated.  "Wild-catting"  for  water  does  not 
pay,  as  many  bleaching  bones  could  testify, 
were  they  able  to  speak.  The  presence  of 
grease-wood  always  gives  hope  to  the  thirsty. 

The  different  reptiles  found  are  a  variety  of. 
lizards,  and  their  colors  include  the  grays,  yel- 
lows, reds  and  blues;  the  Gila  monster  (pro- 
32 


nounced  Hila)  belongs  to  the  lizard  family, 
though  he  is  much  larger,  and  whose  bite  is  fa- 
tal. He  is  found  mostly  in  the  cafions  of  Ari- 
zona. His  looks  are  very  forbidding,  and  he 
has  a  repulsive  way  of  hissing.  There  is  no 
antidote  for  his  poison.  The  little  skunk 
found  on  the  desert  has  poisoned  teeth,  whose 
bite  brings  on  hydrophobia.  The  horned  toads, 
harmless,  come  in  variegated  colors ;  in  what- 
ever sand  they  are  found,  such  will  be  their 
color.  Of  the  most  dreaded  snakes  are  the 
spotted,  brown,  and  yellow  "sidewinders"  and 
"rattlers,"  which  travelers  should  shun  on  ac- 
count of  their  deadly  poison.  The  bite  of  the 
rattler  is  not  necessarily  fatal.  A  person  will 
know  a  rattler  the  hrst  time  he  hears  its  peculiar 
buzz  and  whirr.  It  is  very  slow  to  strike,  slug- 
gish, but  once  the  head  shoots  out  of  the  coil 
it  does  so  with  the  swiftness  of  an  arrow  re- 
leased from  a  bov.\  Only  a  road  runner  can 
dodge  it.  The  bite  is  fatal  if  it  has  entered  the 
rteshy  part  of  the  body,  where  the  flow  of  blood 
to  the  heart  is  free,  but  if  struck  on  the  hand  or 
foot,  when  the  circulation  is  slow,  a  person  may 
check  the  poison. 

Even  the  sneaking  coyotes  is  entitled  to  some 
admiration  as  he  slips  so  gracefully  through 
33 


the  patches  of  cacti.  Then  there  is  the  scorpion 
and  the  many-legged  centipede,  whose  stings 
are  deadly,  but  not  always  fatal.  All  of  the 
spiders  are  poisonous.  The  most  sharp-witted 
is  the  trap-door  spider — the  name  coming 
from  the  fact  that  the  door  over  the  hole  having 
a  hinge.  The  tarantula  belongs  to  this  family ; 
and  is  a  fierce-looking  wretch,  and  has  a  fero- 
sious  bite.  Insects,  especially  gnats,  annoy  the 
desert  argonaut. 

The  mesquite  found  on  the  desert  is  of  a 
green-yellowish  tinge,  while  the  grease-wood 
and  sage  brush  are  gray,  yellow  and  ash  color, 
and  grow  in  canons  and  on  foothills.  The 
cacti  that  usually  grows  abundantly  on  the  de- 
sert is  not  found  in  Death  Valley.  Vegetation 
in  general  is  very  poorly  represented  on  the 
desert.  In  the  mountains  among  the  manzanita 
and  chaparrel  is  still  the  hiding  places  of  bear 
and  deer,  and  other  game. 

Prospective  Dear  Valley  travelers  must  re- 
member that  two  things  must  be  loyally  faced : 
oppressive  silence  and  desolate  aridness.  It  is 
difficult  to  bring  the  mind  to  the  belief  in  the 
existence  of  such  a  sea  of  waste  and  desert, 
when  every  other  division  of  the  earth  presents 
some  prominent  feature  of  nature. 
34 


■  There  has  been  a  great  deal  of  talk  the  last 
few  years  about  turning  water  upon  the  desert 
and  cutthig  it  up  in  40-acre  ranches.  It  should 
hot  be  done !  There  is  no  doubt  but  that  the  pre- 
ternatural productiveness  of  California  is  due 
to  the  warm  air  of  its  surrounding  desert.  They 
furnish  health  to  the  human  being  and  strength 
to  the  plant.  Tiif.  desert  never  should  be 
RE-ci.AiMED.  The  sink  or  depression  in  Death 
Valley  is  probably  the  greatest  dry  heat  genera- 
tor in  the  world.  It  has  a  great  influence  in 
producing  dry  air.  To  turn  this  desert  into  an 
agricultural  district  would  increase  humidity 
that  would  practically  nullify  the  finest  air  on 
the  continent.  Good  air  and  climate  are  as  es- 
sential to  the  human  body  as  proper  nutriment. 

The  laws  of  nature  all  have  a  purpose.  There 
is  no  doubt  but  that  the  heat  that  whirls  up  out 
of  the  sink.  Furnace  Creek  and  along  the  Ar- 
magosa  river  over  the  Coast  Range  in  South- 
ern California  have  a  great  influence  in  giving 
Los  Angeles  her  much  sought  for  climate. 

The  Armagosa  river  rises  some  200  miles 
north,  above  Ash  Meadows,  flowing  down 
through  a  rocky  canon,  until  entering  Death 
\'alley  at  its  southern  end,  it  dies  away  in  the 
sands  of  this  arid  basin.  Several  springs  are 
35 


found  here  maintaining  a  heat  over  loo  degrees 
at  all  times.  In  short,  Death  Valley  is  the  sink 
of  the  Armagosa  river.  The  bed  of  this  stream 
(were  it  a  "live"  river)  is  charged  heavily  with 
borax,  and  covered  with  a  thin  crust  of  the 
same  material  crystallized.  "Armagosa"  in 
Spanish  means  "bitter ;"  in  Indian  which  is  sim- 
ilar, "Amargosa"  means  "grape  vine."  The 
water  of  this  river  is  bitter  and  its  route  is 
sinuous  as  the  stem  of  a  grape  vine. 

To  the  west  and  extending  north  and  south 
as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach  from  Saratoga 
Springs,  lie  the  nitre  hills.  Light  yellow  in 
color,  resembling  overgrown  sand  hills,  but 
heavily  charged  with  nitre  down  to  bed  rock. 
Beyond  these  nitre  hills  are  to  be  found  other 
hills  of  a  lighter  color,  composed  almost  entirely 
of  rock  salt  in  a  remarkable  condition  of  purity. 

Here  on  January  ist,  1901,  the  thermometer 
was  95  degrees  above ;  on  the  4th  4  degrees  be- 
low zero ;  which  shows  the  changes  are  very 
great  and  rapid. 

For  years  scientific  parties  have  explored  the 
great  valley,  and  each  scientist  has  an  inde- 
pendent view  and  explanation  for  its  topog- 
raphy.   A  study  of  the  land  demonstrates  that 
36 


in  the  valley  there  were  centuries  ago  volca- 
noes. It  is  conceded  that  in  California  there 
have  always  been  volcanic  eruptions,  and  at  this 
time  there  are  several  extinct  volcanoes  which 
are  among  the  points  of  interest.  Earthquake 
disturbances  in  the  early  days  were  frequent 
and  the  waves  moved  in  an  easterly  direction 
from  the  Pacific  Coast.  It  has  also  been  argued 
that  the  entire  Pacific  Coast  was  at  one  time 
under  the  sea  and  was  built  as  the  result  of 
volcanic  eruption.  Frequently  islands  appear 
off  the  coast  in  a  single  night. 

Hardly  a  traveling  party  has  passed  through 
Death  \'alley  that  has  not  found  petrified 
sponges,  coral  and  shells,  and  there  are  min- 
erals of  lava  formation.  It  is  not  at  all  un- 
reasonable to  offer  that  the  Pacific  Ocean  at 
one  time  bordered  Death  Valley.  Miniature 
volcanoes  are  still  active  in  the  desert.  True 
it  is  that  they  do  not  emit  lava,  but  hot  mud 
is  constantly  thrown  up,  showing  that  in  the 
subterranean  passages  there  is  still  great  heat. 

Among  the  Indians  it  was  a  legend  for  many 
years  and  has  been  traditionally  handed  down 
bv  them  that  Death  Valley  is  the  monument  to 
the  violence  of  a  volcano,  earthquake  and  a  tidal 
wave.  They  argued  that  mountains  covered 
37 


262721 


the  basin  which  is  now  Death  Valley,  and  that 
the  heights  were  inhabited  by  Indian  tribes. 
These  people  were  continually  at  war  making 
seige  for  the  most  trivial  causes. 

The  Great  Spirit  of  the  redskins  threatened 
that  unless  warfare  ceased  he  would  on  a  cer- 
tain day  command  the  mountain  to  break  open, 
the  sea  to  cross  the  land  and  the  Great  Spirits 
to  light  all  of  the  fires  under  the  earth.  The 
warning  was  disobeyed.  The  volcano  blew  off 
its  head,  the  earth  opened  for  miles  and  the  sea 
passed  over  the  land. 

Those  who  were  not  killed  by  the  lava  and 
the  poisonous  gases  were  drowned.  Only  a 
few  survived,  and  these  were  under  the  protec- 
tion of  the  Great  Spirit.  And  on  the  fourth 
day  the  waves  receded,  the  earth  ceased  trem- 
bling and  the  crust  of  the  volcano  fell  away, 
forming  the  great  bowl  or  sink  of  the  present 
Death  Valley. 

There  is  on  the  mountain  sides  a  very  pro- 
nounced line  much  resembling  a  beach,  with 
sufficient  impression  on  the  rocks  to  warrant 
a  belief  of  wave  action.  Sometimes  the  foothills 
in  the  distance  appear  to  be  ripples  and  waves ; 
as  if  some  kind  of  liquid  was  pouring  down 
38 


their  sides.  Upon  reaching  the  top  of  them 
they  are  found  to  be  as  sharp  as  knife  blades, 
and  the  opposite  sides  are  almost  perpendicu- 
lar. 

It  was  early  in  the  morning  when  Swamper 
Ike  and  I  left  the  remainder  of  the  party  and 
started  for  a  cave  which  he  said  had  been  es- 
tablished and  occupied  by  a  prehistoric  people. 

Through  a  sinuous  canon  and  rocky  and  pre- 
cipitious  natural  passes  we  rode,  and  even  our 
burros,  sure-footed  as  they  were,  frequently 
hesitated  before  stepping.  For  twenty-five 
miles  we  continued  this  dangerous  journey, 
each  moment  expecting  to  be  hurled  into  one  of 
the  deep  abysses  below. 

In  a  ravine  we  tied  our  horses,  for  the  re- 
mainder of  the  trip  to  the  cave  was  over  a  still 
more  rocky  country,  where  l^urros  were  use- 
less. 

Part  of  the  way  we  crawled,  occasionally 
climbing  a  particularly  steep  rock,  and  at  last — • 
our  hands  and  knees  bruised — arrived  at  the 
base  of  a  mountain  still  robed  in  its  cloak  of 
lava.  Here  and  there  a  mound  dotted  the  wild- 
erness, marking  the  resting  places  of  people 
whom  we  know  nothing  of. 
39 


That  they  were  intelligent  and  artistic  is 
demonstrated  by  the  characters  of  the  sepul- 
chres and  the  obsydian  and  agate  arrowheads 
which  we  found. 

Three  hundred  feet  from  where  we  stood 
was  the  dark  mouth  of  the  cave,  and  in  the 
dismal  quiet  that  prevailed  in  that  God  for- 
saken country,  it  seemed  to  be  beckoning  with 
yawning  jaws  for  the  explorer  who  had  the 
courage  to  enter  its  depths. 

As  we  plunged  into  the  darkness  of  the 
mountain  chamber,  Ike  struck  a  match,  and  the 
friction  of  the  phosphorus  and  sulphur  strik- 
ing the  standstone  wall,  piercingly  re-echoed 
through  the  cave. 

The  light  of  a  lantern  laid  bare  the  treasures 
of  the  cliff  dwelling.  Its  floor  and  walls  were 
of  red  sandstone,  and  had  been  carefully  and 
artistically  hewn. 

The  fragments  of  beautifully  carved  pottery 
lay  on  the  floor,  and  scratched  in  the  sandstone 
here  and  there  were  the  hieroglyphics  of  a  lost 
people. 

Swamper  Ike  had  been  there  before  and  to 
him  this  strange  testimony  was  not  surprising. 
40 


On  his  first  trip  he  had  explored  the  depths 
of  that  cave  and  succeeded  in  finding  a  treasure 
more  valuable  to  him  than  its  weight  in  gold. 
It  was  a  well-made  axe  of  copper,  with  a  han- 
dle of  the  same  mineral.  It  was  finely  tem- 
pered, and  although  he  had  had  it  in  his  posses- 
sion for  years  and  had  frequently  used  it  when 
driving  a  borax  team  across  Death  Valley,  it 
had  never  lost  its  edge. 

To  the  Egs'ptians  we  attribute  the  secret  of 
tempering  copper.  Nearly  all  scientific  parties 
are  engaged  in  researches  along  the  Nile  en- 
deavoring to  solve  the  mystery,  and  who  knows 
but  what  they,  like  the  prospector,  have  dis- 
dainfully walked  over  the  treasure-box. 

Unaccounted  for  are  the  "lost  tribes  of  Is- 
rael !"  Is  it  unreasonable  to  oiTer  that  they 
might  have  crossed  the  great  Atlantic  and  set- 
tled in  this  region  ?  Do  not  the  Indians  who  in- 
habit the  valley  argue  that  they  are  the  most 
sacred  children  of  the  Great  Spirit,  and  when 
their  customs  are  investigated  does  it  not  ap- 
peal to  the  searcher,  that  the  beginning  of  their 
beliefs  must  have  been  based  upon  something 
more  than  the  superstition  of  the  savage  mind  ? 

In  the  extreme  recesses  of  the  cave  we  found 
a  niche  and  carefully  examined  it.  Our  hearts 
41 


beat  with  quick  pulsations  and  the  fever  of  ex- 
citement and  curiosity  had  assumed  control  of 
us.    In  that  little  niche  lay  a  small  roll  of  hide. 

\\'e  carried  it  outside  the  cave  so  that  na- 
ture's light  might  fall  upon  it,  for  we  knew  not 
what  it  might  reveal. 

Unrolling  the  hide,  we  spread  it  on  the 
£rround.  Roughly  etched  in  the  skin  was  the 
following  autograph : 

"Dear  One : — Thou  are  young  and  fair. 
There  are  many  hearts  that  love  thee  with  a 
deep  affection,  but  they  will  perish  one  by  one, 
like  leaves  in  the  cold  winds  of  autumn,  and 
the  dust  of  death  will  cover  them.  Thence  thou 
wilt  read  within  thy  sacred  autograph  collection 
and  each  page  will  tell  in  deep  and  voiceless 
eloquence  of  days  too  beautiful  to  last.  The 
tones  of  lowly  lost  friends  will  swell  upon  the 
twilight  winds  like  notes  of  low  Aoellian  melo- 
dy ;  their  eyes  will  gaze  all  mournful  into  thine, 
their  arms  will  fold  thee  in  one  last  embrace, 
and  years  of  care  and  grief  will  seem  to  have 
passed  away,  and  thou  wilt  dream  thou  are  a 
girl  once  more."  To  E — 

This  document  is  probably  the  last  of  an  un- 
fortunate lover  who  had  decided  to  enter  Death 
42 


U-Ui^l     l»j-JLL    (T^LTVll^h.    J>-^    "tjy      ^vo- 
"^^-■^    VATvU.    4.^^    CUjl-      -T, 


.  Ww> 


rctyi 


o 


A  reproduction  of  the  message  found  on  a  piece  of 
hide  in  the  cave. 


\'alley  in  the  hope  of  finding-  gold,  and  with 
riches  and  his  heart  to  lay  at  her  feet,  return 
and  again  ask  the  girl  he  adored  to  listen  to 
his  ofit'erings  of  love. 

He  had  undoubtedly  become  lost  in  that 
great  region  as  have  so  many  others,  and  as  the 
grip  ot  death  was  tightening  upon  him  etched 
his  last  message,  but  did  not  finish  it. 

An  Indian  once  told  Swamper  Ike  of  the 
finding  of  a  body  of  a  white  man  and  the  hide. 
The  redskin  buried  the  corpse  and  threw  the 
hide  into  the  niche. 

And  thus  is  explained  the  "Why,  When  and 
Hozv  of  the  Traditional  Lore  of  Swamper  Ike." 


43 


D.  A.  HUFFORD  &  CO., 
Publishers  of 


"THE  REAL  RAMONA 

OF  Mrs.  Helen  Hunt  Jackson's 
Famous  Novel/' 

(Five  Souvenir  Bindings.) 


"EL  CAMINO  REAL, 

THE      Highway      Connecting      the 
Twenty-one  Missions." 

(Five  Souvenir  Bindinge-) 

"DEATH  VALLEY ; 

Swamper    Ike's    Traditional    Lore: 
Why,  When,  How?" 

(Five  Souvenir  Bindings.) 

Manufacturers  of 

Souvenir  and  Burnt  Novelties. 

Los  Angeles,  Cal. 


'«^« 


mi 


*->i  ^5?, 


-  -  't*' 


1#- 


J'v>. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  AT  LOS  ANGELES 

THE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 


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MAH11195I 
NOV  1  5  1952 

DEC  3      RECO 

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J&lli  1980 
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